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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282970">how many more spider-people are there?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/koemi/pseuds/koemi'>koemi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the one and only spider-man [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>High School AU, M/M, aaron is mentioned and present but never actually says anything, he's also technically homeless, neil eats a mango like a monster, neil is spider-man, spider-man au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:33:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/koemi/pseuds/koemi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dating Spider-man is terrible. Dating Neil would be a trial in and of itself—a reckless boy with too much skin and too many problems—but the fact that he's Spider-man makes it an entirely different ordeal. </p><p>(or the one where Neil takes a hit, big time. So Andrew, being a good boyfriend, borrows the family car and patches him up.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the one and only spider-man [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>466</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>how many more spider-people are there?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The cousin’s kitchen in Columbia is a hopeless thing in August. The windows let in all of the heat, but there isn’t enough of a breeze to let any of it out. It’s an oven and Andrew can’t stand it. He’d been stupid enough to think that getting out of California would mean escaping the heat. Coupled with the fact that his boyfriend isn’t texting him back, it’s serving to put Andrew in a shitty mood. He’s standing over the sink, drinking ice water and trying to tune out the buzzing in the back of his brain. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Aaron has escaped to Katelyn’s house, which also doesn’t have air conditioning, but does having a swimming pool. Nicky is watching TV in the living room, cycling through news shows and talk shows and sitcoms fast enough that it’s going to drive Andrew insane. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The culmination of it all is getting to his head and he’s desperate for the sun to go down and for Neil to get here. Neil is so loud he turns down the volume of the rest of the world, makes it so that he’s the only thing that Andrew can focus on. Sometimes it’s unbearable, distracting and scary, but most of the time it’s a welcome change. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“An unknown creature is currently making its way through downtown with the hero Spider-man in hot pursuit—” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The cup falls into the sink with a clatter. Thankfully, it’s made of plastic because Nicky swears that he can’t trust either of the twins with glass—occasionally he’s right. The water splashes up on Andrew’s hands and he wipes them dry on his shirt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He goes out into the living room, dismissing the curious look that Nicky sends him and focussing on the TV. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So that's why he isn't texting back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">Dating Spider-man is terrible. Dating Neil would be a trial in and of itself—a reckless boy with too much skin and too many problems—but the fact that he's Spider-man makes it an entirely different ordeal. </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew hates it, he hates the way that Neil comes home, bruised and bloody. He hates the way that every girl on the internet writes fanfiction about the muscular dream man that is absolutely nothing like his wisp of a boyfriend. He hates the way that Neil feels like he has to step in, no matter the threat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hates this part the most—the waiting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil is on-screen, desperately trying to stop the monster that's making its way through downtown. It’s ten times bigger than he is, but Neil is faster. He’s outrunning it, moving people out of the way as best as he can and trying to trip it up. The camera zooms out, showing the civilians fleeing like water, rushing out from where the monster is. And Neil, circling in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew can’t help, can’t even contact Neil. He just has to stand by and watch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The newscasters continue to commentate like it’s a sports match and not Andrew’s boyfriend brushing closer and closer with death. They sing his praises, critique his form. The rest of the city looks on, breathless. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil isn’t the only hero in the world, but he is the only hero in Columbia. Columbia shouldn’t be big enough to warrant attacks like this, but between the recently opened Moriyama Labs and Fort Jackson, it’s made itself a target. Columbia is now significant enough to make a splash in the news, enough to establish yourself as a villain. And, before Spider-man, small enough that there was no one to stop you. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The attacks drew Neil here, convinced him that if he was going to be homeless and heroic anywhere, he might as well do it in a city that no one else wanted to vouch for. Even though that means that when attacks like this happen, he has no back up. Eventually the military will come, government agents will clean up the mess and everyone will pretend that it never happened. But all the other superheroes stay away. They leave it to Neil. He stands alone between the citizens of Columbia and whatever nightmare decides to take to the streets. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil helps a mother get her children out of the car, sending them dashing down a side street. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s an idiot on his phone, trying to get the right angle on the monster. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ever since the attacks started coming from outer space and all over, phone recordings became a valuable resource. Andrew knows that it’s instinct to try and capture what’s happening, to try and gather information so they can better figure out what this is. But it makes him want to shake the guy who’s standing in the thick of it. Neil is clearly trying to save his life, but he’s too wrapped up in himself to realize that he’s going to get more than footage if he doesn’t get out of the way. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The newscasters seem to realize it too, dread dawning in their voices. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not going to get out of there on time,” Nicky says. He sounds horrified, appropriately so, but he also sounds distant. This happens too often now. It feels so detached from their ordinary life. Nicky doesn’t realize that Neil is Spider-man and that this battle, none of the battles, will ever be ordinary for Andrew. “Oh shit—Spider-man has some <em>moves</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil does have some moves, thank god. He catches the civilian around the waist and swings him around, out of the reach of the monster and in the direction of safety. To his credit, the guy shoves the phone in his pocket and starts to run at full tilt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The monster momentarily looks after him, like it might try to chase him down, but then Neil catches his attention, tripping him up with a web. For a moment, even the commentators think that Neil has won, because the monster goes down, hard. Neil himself shifts his focus to the civilians, making sure that everyone is clearing the area, he physically turns his back—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just in time for the monster to catch Neil in the side, sending him sideways, toppling over a car and rolling to a stop. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Oh, that's <em>gotta</em> hurt," Nicky says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil is down and he doesn’t look like he’s getting up. Andrew can’t breathe. His entire world seems to be centered on the figure, clad in blue and red, that’s prone on the pavement. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has imagined what will happen if and when Neil dies. He’ll turn on the news and find out that his boyfriend is dead, eaten by something that fell from space or shot by someone who decided they felt like robbing a bank. Neil will throw himself in front of the bullet or overtop of the bomb because he’s a martyr and he doesn’t know any better. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the world will find out that Spider-man is a homeless sixteen year old. A homeless sixteen year old with a fake name and consistently abysmal grades in History. Aaron and Nicky will find out that the boy who kisses Andrew and eats all of their frozen waffles is actually Spider-man. The spiral will grow tighter and tighter, until all of Neil’s secrets are shared. It will feel like everything is ending, but the world will keep spinning. Andrew isn’t sure he’ll survive it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil rises to his feet, a little wobbly, but determined. The newscasters let out sighs that crackle over the mics and cheer him on as he finally brings the monster to its knees. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew turns away from the TV, not bothering to listen to the resolution. Neil’s part of the fight is over, it’s up to the military or the cops or animal control or whoever has to deal with what’s left. Andrew’s part has just begun. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He takes the stairs two at a time and starts to collect. He grabs a fresh set of clothes because Neil can’t come wandering into the house in his suit and Andrew doesn’t trust wherever Neil hid his own stuff—one time Neil threw all of his stuff inside a dumpster, and there’s no way that Andrew is letting him into his car in garbage clothes. He never knows what to expect with Neil, so he brings shorts, sweatpants, two shirts, and a zip-up sweater. The only time Andrew brought one shirt, Neil proceeded to vomit down the front of it. Better safe than sorry. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">First aid kit, towel, car keys. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Anything that he thinks he might need he shoves into a backpack which gets slung over his shoulder on his way back downstairs. He also pulls out his phone and switches over to twitter. There are dozens of fan accounts who track Spider-man’s every move. And there are thousands of people using the hashtags to report facts about the incident. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spider-man doesn’t have any pockets in the suit—a massive design flaw in Andrew’s mind that Neil insisted didn’t matter—so he’ll have stashed his phone somewhere. Neil will go back for his things, especially if he’s injured. He won’t be able to get far, not with eyes on him in his flashy outfit. Andrew’s best bet is to try and find a place that’s near the origin of the incident, but also somewhere between Neil’s rooftop hideaway and the cousin’s house. Neil was on his way over when he found out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A couple bottles of water, a box of protein bars, and a mango are all stolen from the kitchen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm borrowing the car," Andrew says, not taking his eyes off of his phone. He scrolls past some fangirls just talking about the way that Neil’s ass looks in the suit. They’re not wrong, but they’re also not helping—Andrew helped Neil improve the suit and he’s pretty proud of what he brought to the table fit-wise. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought Neil was coming over?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m picking him up.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Oh</em>.” Andrew can hear the smirk in Nicky’s voice and he scrolls more aggressively through the hashtag, making notes of some cross-streets and the time stamps. “<em>Okay</em> then. Aaron’s coming back now for dinner. We’re gunna have pizza. I’ll order tons so there’s enough for Neil.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil eats a ridiculous amount. He doesn’t eat enough when he’s not over at their house and has a supernatural metabolism to keep up with. Andrew tries to fill him with as much food as he can whenever he comes over, buying things that he knows that Neil will eat. Their kitchen is full of fruit and crackers and oatmeal. Aaron calls it bird food, Andrew calls it spider food in his head. Nicky calls it boyfriend bait. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew can tell that Nicky is about to make some kind of crude comment about Neil staying the night, so he leaves before Nicky can get another word out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sun is low in the sky, but it’s still bright out. Summer seems to stretch on forever and Andrew can’t wait for fall. Neil likes the warmth, but Andrew hates feeling constantly sweaty and adrift in the never-ending days. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shoves the phone in one of the cupholders, in case Neil does manage to get a hold of his phone and calls, and tosses the backpack into the backseat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Maserati is too nice for chores like this, but he likes the look on Aaron’s face when he thinks that Andrew and Neil have had sex in it. Also the cousins don’t have another car, but mostly the Aaron thing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew feels like he’s looking for a lost dog, driving down the streets to carefully peer into alleys and down side streets as he gets closer to where the incident took place. He can’t get too close because the police have closed everything down, so he searches the streets just adjacent. Anywhere that he thinks Neil might’ve stashed his stuff, mentally running through the routes Neil might’ve taken. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then his phone pings. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Neil has shared a location with you. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s less than a block away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a surge of something like triumph. He knows Neil, knows his runner better than anyone else in the world. No matter what the fan blogs think, they could never get this right. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His location is approximate, as much as Google Maps might try, but Andrew knows what he’s looking for. He sees one red foot sticking out from behind a dumpster and pulls into the first available parking spot. It’s at a meter, but he doesn’t intend to stick around. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The streets are deserted. This block is mostly office space, so on a Saturday at dinnertime there isn’t a soul around. Well, except for Andrew’s battered boyfriend. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil is hunched in the back corner of the alley. He’s mostly obstructed by the dumpster, but Andrew knows that he’s probably in too much pain to curl his body enough to hide completely. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s also still wearing the suit, which isn’t a good sign. Neil usually gets out of it as soon as possible, finding somewhere to duck down and quickly swap clothes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew brings the sweatpants and sweater with him into the alley.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s me,” he says, knowing that Neil’s senses will be in overload. He’s vulnerable, injured and exposed in a back alley. There are blogs all over the city that are trying to find him and expose who he really is. Neil claims that he can tell it’s Andrew by the way that he walks, but Andrew doesn’t trust him to be able to discern anything right now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Drew?” Neil’s voice is low, a little more than a slur. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew comes around the side of the dumpster and immediately drops down to be close to him. Neil is still wearing the mask, though he’s thrown a shirt over his lap to try and conceal the suit. It’s a poor attempt, but Neil’s too out of it to have done better. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes or no?” Andrew asks, hands hovering. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” Neil mumbles. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew peels the mask off of his face. One of his blue eyes is bruised and there’s a split in his lip, but he doesn’t seem concussed. Andrew tries to test the way that the internet told him too, but after he’s ruled out serious brain damage, he gives up. Neil’s supernatural body will deal with the rest after a good night’s sleep. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where is it the worst?” Andrew brushes his hands over Neil’s shoulders, bringing the sweater around his shoulders and tying the strings so that it stays closed a little. He’s got a general idea of how the fight went, but it’s always hard to tell exactly which hits leave a mark. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My ribs are,” he sucks in a breath, “bad. Everything else is fine.” Andrew will have to decide that for himself when they get out of the open. Knowing Neil, fine means bruised and bloody but not technically broken. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s still no one around, so Andrew gently slides the sweatpants up Neil’s legs. It’s too hot for the sweatpants or the sweater, but they’re the best they can do to cover the suit for the time being. As Andrew leans in, so does Neil. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes or,” Neil hiccups, “no?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” Andrew replies. Neil lets out a soft whimper and nuzzles his face into Andrew’s neck. Andrew can feel him relax minutely as his hands grip over Andrew’s forearms. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The suit isn’t entirely covered, but it’s only a few feet to the car, so it’ll have to do. Andrew helps him to his feet, looping an arm around Neil’s hips and trying not to touch his ribs. Neil groans.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanna kiss you,” Neil says suddenly. It’s so ridiculous that it takes Andrew a minute to realize that he’s serious. He’s beat to hell and back, but he’s still trying to bat his eyelashes at Andrew. It’s maddening that he manages to be pretty at a time like this, but Andrew has practice in ignoring it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like this the only thing you’re likely to be kissing is the pavement.” Andrew drags them out of the alley and hopes that Neil doesn’t catch his blush. There’s still no one on the street so they do a lopsided three-legged walk to the car. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so good at healing,” Neil babbles, almost nonsensically. “I just need a minute.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You need at least an hour. Probably several.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Half an hour.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We are not bargaining right now,” Andrew tells him, opening the door to the backseat and letting Neil fall inside. “You are one step up from a corpse. I wouldn’t want to kiss you anyways.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He closes the door and walks back to the alley. Neil’s phone, as well as the clothes he’d been wearing, are stuffed haphazardly behind the dumpster. They smell predictably bad and Andrew’s glad he brought others. When he returns to the car he tosses the clothes on the floor of the passenger seat and puts the phone in the cupholder beside his own.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he gets in, Neil insists, “You always want to kiss me.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Factually untrue,” Andrew says. He can hear Neil rummaging around and reaches back to take the water bottle from him. He opens it and then hands it back. Neil drinks, spilling water everywhere when he tries to do it without sitting up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s lying across the three seats in the back—luckily, he isn’t very tall. It’s not ideal, but his legs aren’t hurt and he doesn’t seem to mind pressing them against the door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When have you not wanted to kiss me?” Neil sounds petulant, but more himself. Already he’s stopped slurring and started to perk up. Andrew pulls out of the parking spot. It won’t do for someone to see Neil lying in the backseat so close to the incident and so clearly injured. “Where are we going?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“School.” Andrew says it before he’s really thought it through, but it’s not a bad idea. The school will be deserted at this time so they can park in one of the massive lots for as long as they’d like. It’s dismal to visit before they have to be back in September, but beggars can’t be choosers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil hums. After a moment of quietly winding their way through the city to the high school, Neil pipes up again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t tell me, when did you not want to kiss me?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You got the flu, like a month ago.” It confused the both of them. Andrew who had been under the impression that Spider-man’s immune system kept Neil from being sick. And Neil, who hadn’t been sick since middle school. He’d lived with the cousins for a week, conceding that it probably wasn’t the best idea to be roaming the rooftops of Columbia with a fever and a penchant for vomiting at a moment’s notice. Andrew had been loathe to see him move out again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You kissed me on the forehead.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had been a moment of weakness. Neil, sweaty and miserable, sitting on the floor of the bathroom, looking at Andrew like he was the only thing in the universe. He’d just vomited, which should’ve been unromantic, but he turned to Andrew and said, very softly, “I can’t do anything without you anymore. I can’t even imagine it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A forehead kiss was the closest that Andrew could get to responding. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Doesn’t count,” Andrew says, avoiding Neil’s gaze in the rearview mirror. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes it does.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In what world?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s within the realm of the face.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Moron.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re the one that likes me.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t like having to verbalize the fact that he likes Neil and Neil seems capable of reading his silences. Neil settles back, somehow satisfied and dozes for the rest of the time it takes them to get to the school. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they park he makes a soft grunting noise to let Andrew know he’s awake. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I come back there?” Andrew asks, trying to judge if there’s enough space. He needs to be able to touch Neil and reassure himself that Neil’s okay. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure.” Neil looks like he’s going to shrug and then thinks better of it. “It’s nice and roomy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not. Andrew gets in by Neil’s feet and closes the door behind him. It’s tight in the backseat with the two of them. He’s half kneeling, half crouched, with his elbows on the seat next to Neil. The windows are tinted enough that nobody should be able to see them unless they get really close. The rest of the parking lot is empty, so they’re safe here. Neil seems to think the same thing, looking up at Andrew tiredly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you here to give me kisses?” He asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew snorts and Neil seems to take that as a win, his hands coming up to feebly play with the hem of Andrew’s t-shirt. Andrew pointedly ignores this, but doesn’t move to dislodge him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil doesn’t need much from the first aid kit, so Andrew wets the towel and works on the blood that’s on his chin. The split lip is already basically healed, and Neil is definitely in less pain than he was in half an hour ago. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The suit highlights everything about Neil that makes Andrew ache, but he feigns disinterest and digs through the backpack for the t-shirt and shorts he brought. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going to help you out of the suit, yes or no?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” Neil says firmly. He tries to push himself up one-handed, but Andrew ends up having to pull him most of the way. When he’s finally sitting up, Neil lets out a wheezing groan.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Still yes?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It takes a few, fumbling minutes to get Neil out of the suit. Unlike the first few months they were together, they’re more comfortable now. Well, more comfortable in cases like this—Neil’s inability to move his arms destroys any kind of mood. Andrew doesn’t feel like he’s being burnt alive, but instead there’s a constant fire in his stomach. A steady hearth, not an unmanageable blaze. Neil’s skin is soft and his breath is a reminder that they’re here, together. Neil trusts him and that’s far more important than the fact that he’s half-naked in the back of Andrew’s car. The half-naked part is still second, but it’s not a particularly close race. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he’s finally in Andrew’s clothes, Neil leans back against the door with a long sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew pulls a knife out of his armbands and carefully skins the mango he brought. Neil watches him, rapt. With the skin gone, he hands Neil the whole mango and avoids looking at him when he starts to eat it like an apple. It’s a messy, disgusting process. Neil looks at Andrew like he hung the moon as he eats. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They’re my favourite.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I know, Andrew bites back from replying. Neil’s long and lithe on the seats, all muscle and held together by sheer willpower. He catches Andrew looking and smirks around a mouthful of mango. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I hate you," Andrew says. There's a tiny bit of Neil's blood under his fingernails. Neil reaches out a sticky hand, still partially covered in fruit. He laces their fingers together. Andrew hates him like the thrumming of his blood through his body. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, I know.” Neil puts the mango pit down on the bloody towel, which has migrated to the floor. He brushes a hand over his ribs. “Fuck.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Still bad?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil nods a little. “Better though.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re staying at the house tonight.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think—” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nicky is ordering pizza for us. You need to sleep on something that isn’t the ground.” Andrew tries to say it so that it doesn’t suggest argument, momentarily worried that Neil will say no and Andrew will have to watch him hobble back to his hideouts. Neil knows that Andrew would never force him to do anything, but Andrew likes to pretend that he has a modicum of control over the situation. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, okay.” Neil can never say no to food. “If there’s pizza.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew rolls his eyes. A glance at the clock says that they should probably go back to the house, and Neil seems to be fairing much better. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We should go,” he says, though he makes no effort to get his hand back from where Neil is gently playing with his fingers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Neil concedes. He doesn’t let go either. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s technically been an hour, so Andrew doesn’t feel too much like he’s giving in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes or no?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil’s smirk is so sharp that Andrew’s pretty sure it’ll cut his lips when he leans in on Neil’s “yes.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Making out with your injured boyfriend in the parking lot of your high school isn’t the most glamorous thing in the world, but it’s worth it. Every moment with Neil, Andrew is glad that he exists. Glad that they found each other. That the universe will allow them to have this glimmer of light, held between their hands. It’s fragile and might very well burn out, but it’s the most precious thing that Andrew has. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they finally part, Neil is looking remarkably healthy, but extremely tired. Andrew admires the flush on his cheeks and how his eyes are more black than blue. He likes being able to effect Neil, likes that Neil protects the city, but that he belongs with Andrew. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t say any of this, climbing out of the backseat and slowly driving them home. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The lights are still on in the house when they pull up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil gets out of the backseat, slowly, but by himself. He’s also put all of the stuff that they brought in the backpack, which he hands to Andrew. Andrew adds Neil’s clothes and pockets both of their phones. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil looks debauched. He’s bone-tired and Andrew’s mussed his hair up considerably. Nicky will think all sorts of things when he sees him, but Andrew finds that he doesn’t really care. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew leads him into the house, their arms brushing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Neil!” Nicky calls. He and Aaron are sprawled on separate couches, watching the end of some kind of action movie. As Neil waves at them, an explosion goes off and he flinches. Most of the time he can manage the sensory overload that comes with heightened everything, but he still dislikes any sudden loud noises. Andrew realizes that being downstairs will be stressful for him as long as the movie is playing and sends him away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll get us some pizza,” he says. Neil nods and trudges up the stairs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stacks pizza on Neil’s plate, pineapple but no ham because Neil is a heathen who would do anything for more fruit. The whole pizza was ordered for him, but he probably doesn’t have the energy to eat it all now. Andrew gives him six pieces and figures Neil will eat the rest in the morning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew takes two pieces for himself. Pepperoni, because he has taste. He balances the plates and gets a glass of water for Neil. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In Andrew’s room, Neil’s turned on the fan and opened the window, helping with the heat. He’s on the bed, already half asleep. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks different like this. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he’s in the suit he seems so much larger than life. People flock to him, singing his praises and taking his picture. But like this, in Andrew’s clothes and his eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion, he’s dangerously real. He flickers from dream to reality the moment that the mask slips off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re going to find some way to communicate when you’re doing dumb shit,” Andrew says, kicking the door closed and setting down the plates of pizza on his bedside table. He sits down on the edge of the bad and Neil shifts closer. They’re almost touching, Neil on his back and Andrew sitting beside him. Andrew can feel the warmth of his body through his clothes and it should be suffocating, the room is hot enough already, but it’s comforting. He’s here, he’s alive. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” Neil asks, reaching over and grabbing a piece of pizza. He begins the indelicate process of trying to eat it lying down. He’s going to get tomato sauce all over Andrew’s bed. Andrew can’t make himself care. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, a radio or something.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It would have to be in my ears, I won’t be able to bring anything close to my face to talk.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Airpods.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not going to wear airpods.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘Hey Siri, text Andrew.’ ‘What would you like to say?’ ‘I’m going to be late, there’s a giant lizard eating the post office.’” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neil laughs, bright and obnoxious. He licks some grease off of his knuckles and they eat the rest of their pizza in silence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Downstairs, the movie ends, and Aaron comes thundering up the stairs. Andrew runs a hand through Neil’s hair, and something in Andrew twinges when Neil leans into the touch. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Neil’s forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be back,” Andrew says simply. Neil gives him a sleepy nod, rolling over so that his cheek is pressed into the pillow and he’s facing the fan. He doesn’t seem to feel any pain when he moves, which says good things about his ribs. Something in Andrew relaxes a little further. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gathers up their plates and takes them down through the quiet house. Nighttime has settled fully and everything feels muffled. There’s still a light on under Aaron’s door and Andrew can hear the echo of his voice, probably talking to Katelyn. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The windows of the kitchen are open, finally letting the day’s heat seep out. Nicky is standing at the sink, doing the dishes. His hair is long enough that it curls at the nape of his neck. He’s wearing a tank top and shorts. When he turns to Andrew, there’s a soap sud stuck on his bare arm, near his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reaches for the plate that Andrew is holding without a word. Andrew lets him take it and then leans against the counter. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is Neil spending the night?” Nicky asks. He’s clearly fighting to keep his voice neutral. Andrew doesn’t like Nicky making a fuss over the fact that they’re dating, but he clearly wants to. Every once in a while he lets Nicky win. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nicky nods a few too many times to be casual. There’s a moment of silence where it would seem he’s choosing his words carefully. It’s unusual and Andrew can’t imagine what he’s going to say next. Or he could, but he would be wrong. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen” Nicky says, lowering his voice, “I know that Neil is homeless.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew has never actively hidden it from Nicky, but Neil is Neil, so they’re vague about where he goes when he leaves. They don’t talk about how he carries everything valuable with him or leaves it in his locker at school because it’s safer than where he sleeps. Andrew is careful to make it seem like his boyfriend is always hungry, not too impoverished to feed himself. It isn’t like Nicky to notice things like this, and for a moment he holds all of the cards. If anyone were to find out, Neil is just on the right side of young that they would shovel him into foster care and Andrew would never see him again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Nicky is Nicky, so he doesn’t wield the power he has over Andrew, he gives it back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know what the deal is, if like his parents suck or don’t exist or whatever.” Nicky shrugs a little, his hands still in the sink even though there aren’t any dishes left. “But if he wants a place to stay, like, long-term. I wouldn’t mind. I talked to Aaron, he said that he doesn’t care. So, yeah.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nicky finally looks up and their eyes catch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew always seems to underestimate Nicky. His kindness, his ability to try. He’s willing to do anything that the twins ask of him, even if that’s inviting their weird, homeless boyfriends to stay. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I—” For once, Andrew doesn’t seem to know what to say. “Okay. I will tell him.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A smile inches its way across Nicky’s face. “Alright.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew slips back out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He gets ready for bed, thinking about Neil and Nicky and letting the last bits of the tension that’s been in his shoulders leave. When Andrew gets back from the bathroom, the edges of his hair damp from washing his face, Neil is asleep. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He barely even stirs when Andrew slides in beside him. Knowing his weird senses he can probably tell that it’s Andrew from smell or weight or something stupid like aura. Andrew tries not to overthink the level of trust that Neil has for him, settling in beside his boyfriend. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andrew can’t help but think about Nicky’s offer. Neil would probably balk at it, but winter will come eventually and that might change his mind. Or they’ll just keep ordering pizza and tricking him into staying. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or maybe they’ll break up and by the time that winter comes none of it will matter. Andrew doesn’t really want to think about it, but they’re sixteen so he’s not naive enough to think that it’s not a possibility. Neil could get tired of him, realizing that he’s impossibly special and Andrew is just Andrew. He could decide that he doesn’t want Andrew and all of his baggage, that he wants more than this little house and it’s damaged occupants. So Neil will break up with him and Andrew will be haunted, every step of his life, watching Neil throw himself into danger and not even having the right to be concerned. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But for now he can pick up the pieces. And he’ll continue to do so for as long as Neil will let him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He closes his eyes, summer air thick in his lungs. He can feel the weight of Neil’s body on the bed, the steady pull and push of his breathing. Neil is an awful set of contradictions and everything about him demands impossibility. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s awful and wicked and easily the most important thing in Andrew’s world. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’ll come up with a solution that’s better than airpods—eventually. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The title is a quote from Into the Spider-verse. I carefully avoided adding any of the other foxes because in my mind they're the other Avengers. I might write that one day, but it took me five years to write this one, so maybe not. </p><p>Also, I do eat mangos like that and I've been told it's atrocious.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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